


Skin

by wolfgun



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Softcore smut, it's not really graphic, just take these two dorks waking up together okay, lol don't look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:50:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9178375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfgun/pseuds/wolfgun
Summary: Keith breathes in deeply and then blinks awake, a certain warmth all around him. It’s a warmth that he only feels when he’s with Lance; a sensation that envelops the air around him and traps him, thawing him to his core, making everything glow.





	

Keith breathes in deeply and then blinks awake, a certain warmth all around him. It’s a warmth that he only feels when he’s with Lance; a sensation that envelops the air around him and traps him, thawing him to his core, making everything glow.

 

His skin is alight where he and Lance touch; at some point during the night, they had somehow shifted so that Keith was bear-hugging Lance. It worked out though, because Lance was all lanky limbs and he loved to curl around Keith.

 

He pulls slowly back from under Lance’s chin and looks over his face, admiring his flawless skin shown in the morning light and marvelling at the angle of his chin and even the curve of his lashes against his cheek. Keith grins at his boyfriend and lifts a hand to brush a stray hair away from Lance’s face and tucks it behind his ear. He swore that it’s Lance that’s glowing golden.

 

And then suddenly Keith is falling back onto his shoulders, Lance jumping up with a victorious cry and pinning Keith with his weight. He smirks that beautiful smile Keith loves; the one where he sparkles and his eyes crinkle at the edges that only Keith is privy to. He would die if he admits that that smirk still made him feel the same sparks he had years ago, when their relationship was still full of insults and play-shoves. Not like it isn’t anymore, but… there’s other stuff, too.

 

“What, admiring the masterpiece?” Keith snorts and Lance grins wider.

 

“We’re in a museum? Damn, so that’s why your stamina is shit these days. Growing old, you stale fart?” Lance frowns, but it’s comical; and he’s still practically beaming.

 

“What does that say about your taste in partners, huh?” Keith laughs, and it rings around the room.

 

“It means I have to step up my game.” Lance then full-on grimaces, and leans over Keith, pressing their bodies together. His lips brush Keith’s ear, and Lance hums satisfactorily when a shiver runs through Keith.

 

“Mmm, I don’t think so. I’m pretty good.” To illustrate this statement, he rolls his hips forward. He earns a startled noise and chuckles softly at the reaction, trailing his lips over Keith’s sensitive skin, his jawline, and then the strong cord of his neck.

 

“Really? Are you sure about that, Mr. ‘Pretty Good’?” Keith tilts his head at an angle, but his words come out more breathy than he intends. Lance was good at that--making Keith lose his cool.

 

“You tell me,” Lance says, smirk evident in his voice as he grinds down again, and Keith lets out another sound, the grip on Lance’s shoulders tightening. Keith’s hands move down to his lower back, and Lance props himself up, eyes skimming over the pale skin below him, and the flush that dusts it. He purses his lips, slowly meeting those dark eyes.

 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk yet,” Keith replies lazily, his own eyes travelling over Lance. Sometimes, like it did right now, it feels like they’re teenagers again, with the fate of the universe on their shoulders and the roar of a mechanical cat in the backs of their minds. It feels like they’re new; to the universe, to their roles in it, and to themselves.

 

Lance doesn’t answer, but instead leans back, knees folding under him, Keith’s legs still wrapped around his waist. He hooks a finger under Keith’s shirt and hikes it up, but slowly, gradually; watching Keith’s face as he does so.

 

If there’s one thing Keith never outgrew, it was his sensitivity. Lance loved it. He also loved to tickle Keith, which usually ended up with a bruise or two on Lance’s stomach.

 

His hands run over the plane of Keith’s stomach, over the sharp indents of his muscles, and linger particularly on his scars. Lance feels the way Keith’s toes curl, sees his eyelashes flutter and the growing flush on his cheeks as it extends into his neckline; he’s suddenly consumed by a hunger he knows all too well--one that makes him want to tear off Keith’s clothes and make them both feel good, right then.

 

But he doesn’t give into it. He takes his time as Keith sighs, and pulls that sinful black shirt over his head and tosses it to the ground. Lance pauses.

 

“Why didn’t you take that off before we went to sleep?” Keith snorts, but it’s not rude.

 

“You could’ve just taken it off if you didn’t want it on me.”

 

“Yeah, but I was tired.”

 

“So was I.”

 

They stare at each other for a brief moment before they both laugh, shaking both their bodies and deepening the flush on Keith’s skin.

 

Lance finally leans in and kisses Keith; the laughter dies in his throat as it deepens, and they both sigh, relaxing. Keith moves his hands and his fingers flirt with Lance’s waistband, and Lance angles Keith’s chin, running his tongue over the roof of Keith’s mouth.

 

Keith whimpers, jerking back from the ticklish feeling, and Lance laughs into the kiss. Keith meets him this time as he presses back with his hips, and they part, both groaning into the air between, breath mixing.

 

“So,” Lance breathes, and Keith rolls his eyes.

 

“I hate it when you do that, you dick.”

 

“Yeah, but I’m  _ your _ dick.” Keith’s nose crinkles.

 

“Why are you like this.”

 

“You love me,” Lance declares and smiles wide, before swallowing Keith’s protest in another kiss. Keith huffs through his nose, and it brushes all over Lance’s skin. Keith opens his eyes and is proud to see Lance’s tanned skin flushing with color.

 

Keith tightens his grip and tries to get a bit of leverage, before rolling his hips upwards into Lance. That earns him a grunt, and they part again; Lance smirks. But it’s the dangerous kind of smirk.

 

“Keith, hun, please. Don’t try and beat me at my own game. You know what they used to call me?” Keith’s expression goes blank and he opens his mouth, but Lance is quicker. “The Grinder,” he purrs, and does just that. Keith bites his lip with a furrowed brow, but is still unable to stifle his moan.

 

“That’s because you worked in a coffee shop, you idiot,” he growls, “not because your hips are wicked.”

 

“Oh, but they are.”

 

“That doesn’t--” he chokes on his words as Lance’s palms shift to Keith’s lower back, and moves his hips again. And again. Keith stutters. “Lance--”

 

Lance swoops down and kisses him again, this time moving with a purpose. The places where they’re touching is hot, fucking  _ hot,  _ and although Keith hates being cut off he doesn’t really remember to care as Lance moves down and sucks on the skin just below Keith’s ear. A tiny part of Keith hates himself for being so pliant, but he never really finds it in him to give two shits when Lance is on top of him like this.

 

Really, Lance is just the exception to every single equation Keith’s ever thought up of in his head.

 

And truthfully, Lance is the only one that Keith would ever let touch him like this, see him like this--the only one he would show his wounds to, that he would whisper his past to and the only person in the entire universe that Keith would let hold him until he stopped crying, until he stopped hurting.

 

And the only one Keith would do the same for.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> forgive me mather, for i have sinned...
> 
> legit though this is the Worst Thing i have ever written b/c i get embarrassed when i write stuff like this. so take it and let me hide lmao.
> 
> i can't imagine any kind of intimacy between the two of them other than flashing good-natured insults and terrible jokes (on lance's end at least) at each other i mean Come On. each of them is angry that the other is so hot and loves to fluster the other because it's a game and they both have to win.


End file.
